Assault on Titans' Tower
by dimmy52
Summary: A crack military squadron is ordered by a mysterious benefactor to infiltrate Titans' Tower and eliminate the vigilante superhero group known as 'The Teen Titans'. A Highlytrained, lethal mercenary known as 'The Black Panther' is sent to protect them. Who
1. The Panther and its Prey

**The Panther and its Prey**

The night was young.

The only sounds heard were the rustling of distant evergreens in the cool night wind and the soft lulling roll of the ocean behind the lush forest. Nocturnal creatures carried about their business, completely ignoring the out-of-place figure that stood erect and silent on a small patch of grass beside a protruding rock pew.

It simply did not move.

There was no sign to betray the fact that this…_thing _was still alive.

An owl hooted, and a mouse squeaked in terror.

The mouse was no more.

* * *

"This is to be a strictly HALO landing. By the book people, you've done this plenty of times I'm sure. The target structure is situated on a small island, as you have no doubt realized from the schematics you have all studied."

A few figures shifted uncomfortably. They stood in a modified Hercules cargo plane, known as an MC-130 'Combat Talon'. The preferred choice of Special Forces Units.

Tonight however, it contained an assortment of twenty-five heavily-clad soldiers, with only their uniforms distinguishing between them. Some wore signature SEAL outfits, whilst others wore US Marine attire.

There was even a smattering of Delta uniforms in the pack, although they were few and far between.

These people however, were not soldiers. At least, not anymore. They were mercenaries, hired out by an extremely secretive client, who wished for certain targets to 'cease functioning'.

That is a mercenary's playing field, is it not?

"Face masks on people! Opening ramp in three…two…one…"

A mechanical whirring sound was heard as the gears cranked to life beneath the metallic shell of the Talon. With a 'clunk' the whirring ceased, and an ice-cold wind assaulted the mercenaries' faces and bodies.

Luckily for them, they were wearing their face-masks, along with high-altitude jumpsuits.

"Like I said before, HALO jump. Ready… go!"

A HALO jump is a High Altitude, Low Opening jump. As the name suggests, the diver leaps from the plane at an altitude of roughly 37,000 feet, falls brutally fast and hard, and then stops dangerously close to his landing zone.

Like dominos they fell, out of the plane and into the night sky. The wind drove against them even harder as they approached terminal velocity.

"All units, this is Delta two. We are currently approaching our target at an angle of 76 degrees from the horizon. I and Delta one will land on the island the structure is situated upon whilst the rest of you will land atop the building itself and attempt a roof infiltration. Targets are extremely hostile and dangerous, so be sure to use lethal force, understood?"

"_Copy that Delta two."_

"_Understood Delta two."_

"_No problem Dickwad."_

Not everyone appreciated Delta members' aura of apparent superiority, and this was one mercenary who decided to voice his opinion.

"This isn't the time Marine."

The 'Marine' didn't respond.

The figure witnessed a truly remarkable event unfold as he stood motionless beside that same rock pew.

He had witnessed the jump and landing of elite military troops, something only top-ranking military commanders are entitled to view.

"_You have signed your own death warrant, Delta two."_

* * *

The figure moved, and a startled raccoon scooted out of its way and scampered up a nearby tree in an attempt to escape its potential predator.

The figure didn't even notice it, instead he kept his eyes on the parachuting mercenaries and the giant tower shaped like a 'T'.

"Once we land, switch off your tac radios. Switch to UHF to communicate with one another. We can't run the risk of our robotic subject picking up our signals. Understood?"

The same round of 'affirmative' circulated the team, and after pulling the rip-cord on their parachutes, they reduced speed substantially and the bulk of the military team landed on the roof, whilst a lone pair landed on the island beneath.

The two Ex-Delta members landed roughly on the ground, but the tall grass cushioned their landing and eased the pain off their joints. They landed in a run and unhooked their parachute before folding it neatly and sliding it away.

No need for local authorities to suspect a para-militaristic force was ever here.

A curious thing to pick up on before we progress. Each soldier has been provided with exactly the same weaponry, and all were provided by their client. Each soldier was armed with a silenced MP-5SN, two fragmentation grenades, two stun grenades (also known as 'flash-bangs'), a Desert Eagle Magnum sidearm and a combat knife.

This was starting to look suspiciously like a training exercise, but for what? They were mercenaries, not soldiers, they didn't _need _training.

Regardless, the two mercenaries cradled their MP-5 in their hands, scouring the island in separate directions.

Delta Two soon lost sight of Delta One as he circled the gargantuan building.

* * *

The figure now sped quickly across the rugged terrain, sprinting at impossible speeds whilst still avoiding every rock protrusion and withered tree-stump that lay in his way.

Hopping like an acrobat, he twirled around and over fallen logs, twisting his body in midair to dodge a large tree trunk. He withdrew a long, curved machete from his thigh holster and proceeded to cut and chop stray branches that swat his face recklessly. He sliced them maniacally, leaving a slight trail of destruction in his wake.

He reached the edge the shoreline, and stopped. Mumbling a few inaudible words to himself, he felt a foreign force lift him off his feet and propel him towards the island. In the eerie moonlight, more distinguishing features of this person were visible, such as a black robe, similar to a _gi, _donned upon his body, but it was sleeveless, revealing a perfectly toned set of fore-arms and biceps, thanks to countless years of rigid training in _ninjitsu _and various other styles of Martial Arts. This man was no mercenary. This man has no military training. He doesn't need it. This man is the single most deadly human being on this planet.

He was a ninja. Code Name: Black Panther.

His reputation is legendary. No-one had the money to hire out his services, and he was happy that way. He didn't enjoy being used as a common grunt for higher powers. He enjoyed meditation and training.

It's what he lived for.

That all changed when he was approached by a strange individual one night. How he found him, he did not know, nor did he ask.

The individual simply said that if he were to protect the lives of five teenage superheroes, then he would receive the one thing that matters the most.

His humanity.

That story however, we will discover as this one progresses.

He reached the island and ducked behind a small boulder, his black robe concealing his position. Delta Two continued his ever-cautious walk.

"_One step closer, and you are mine… Now."_

It was so quick, Delta Two could only watch in confusion as he saw the ground rapidly approach his masked face. The last thing he saw before his vision permanently turned black was the sight of his body, still upright, as if it was still in shock as well as to what had just happened.

Then he saw no more.


	2. The Raven's Nest

**The Raven's Nest**

The ninja grabbed the corpse of Delta two tightly and emitted no noise as he struggled to hide it behind some shrubbery. Delta one would be reaching the end of his circuit around the building's base very shortly, and the ninja must prepare.

A light kick knocked the decapitated head towards the same shrubbery in which the body lay.

"Delta two, is that you?"

You see, The Panther made a slight ruckus for this very reason. So Delta one doesn't get suspicious due to the lack of noise.

"Delta two, I'm finishing my survey of the Tower's base."

Delta one continued to walk as he spoke into the radio, tuning in to Delta two's frequency, but he still received no reply.

"Delta two, do you copy?"

"_Of course not, he's dead."_

It was as if the night itself came alive, wrapping two vice-like tentacles around his neck and inserting a long metallic blade through his chest, directly through his heart.

His body ceased to function much quicker then Delta two's.

The Panther released the dead soldier's body from his grip and let it fall limply to the ground.

"_Delta members eliminated. Twenty-three to go."_

He gazed up and levitated once more.

* * *

"Delta two this is SEAL unit commander. We have infiltrated and bypassed the security systems prevalent in this tower. Proceeding towards objective, just like the schematics."

Four soldiers stood in a darkened corridor, the grotesque silhouette of each casting an aura of terror and fright.

Obscene shadows caused by unnatural light sources flickered madly as the torch beams reached a corner of the hallway. They proceeded like ghosts, or perhaps demons, methodical and remorseless as they placed one foot in front of the other.

"Delta two do you copy? Delta one, do you copy? Shit."

"What's the matter?"

"I lost contact with those Delta showponies."

"Are we complaining?" The snide remark was made from the same marine that insulted the Delta member during the drop. A tall, lanky man, Michael Stevens was called 'Little Mike' by his friends and peers.

Oxymoronic statements at their best, wouldn't you agree?

"Shut it Mike. If we don't raise communication with them soon, then we will have to assume that there is a hitch in our plan of operations, and alter it accordingly."

"Whoever off'ed those two did us a favor."

"What did I say?" 'Crow' hissed. "Shut the fuck up Mike."

The marine said no more.

The panther approached the para-military unit's method of insertion. They had managed to pry open the lock to the door that entered the building and disabled the alarm system quite effectively.

The Panther silently entered the Tower, once again becoming invisible in the shadow.

* * *

"Delta two, do you copy?"

Still no response.

"Do you read, Delta two?"

Only static.

"Fuck."

"Crow, I have reached a door labeled 'Raven'." Crow's earpiece buzzed to life.

"Should I proceed with the objective?"

Crow weighed his options. They had come so far, it's useless to back out now.

"Affirmative. Once again, proceed with extreme caution. Raven is a category five threat. Extremely dangerous."

A barely audible chuckle could be heard from the other side.

"I think I can handle a teenage girl, Crow."

"I wouldn't be so sure Chuck. Have you ever seen those Japanese movies? Fucked up man, fucking whack."

A louder snigger emanated from his earpiece.

"Just give me two seconds, I'll be in and out."

Oh, he would be out all right.

* * *

The teenage girl named Raven slept peacefully in her gray bed sheets.

A hardly noticeable rise in her chest betrayed the fact that she still lived. The rise was followed by the inevitable fall as she exhaled.

Donned in a deep blue-black leotard covered in an indigo cloak, Raven was the last thing you would expect from a teenager. Sure, she had mood-swings with the occasional outbursts of anger, but can a typical teenager level a city block just because he or she was dumped?

No, of course not.

Dark and cynical, this goth princess seemed happy the way she was, but beneath the ashen skin and sapphire eyes, a war was raged between her two strongest emotions.

Actually, it was just Anger versus the rest, but anger was putting up an admirable effort.

Tonight however, something will happen, a straw will land on the straining camel's back, and it will begin with this intrusion into her room.

Her door opened with a gaseous whoosh, floating on a pillow of air as it glided to a rest. A large, lethal figure entered, MP-5 raised in readiness to fire.

He saw the girl however, and halted.

This one, he decided, he would get up close with. He withdrew his elongated combat knife and proceeded towards her bed.

He could feel his heart quicken, his pulse rise as he approached the seemingly innocent body of a teenage female. He fingered the handle of his knife impatiently, as if his body couldn't stand the wait but his mind was warning him to take it slow.

He was almost there now, he could even smell her, her very faint perfume from the day before, and it aroused him. He took a long, deep breath as the faint scent wafted in his nostrils and invaded his senses. She still didn't notice him. Her eyes were still closed.

The fact is, she had, and was currently deciding the best way to kill him.

He raised his knife, a wild bloodlust in his eyes and prepared to plunge it deep in her heart.

It was at that moment that Chuck's eyes widened in bewilderment as he felt his grip loosen on the handle as it was violently wretched away from him.

Raven's eyes opened, and behind her eyelids was a rage never seen before, and it chilled Chuck to his core.

"Does this turn you on, you sick fuck?" She sneered as the blade flew past her head and reared around, doing a 180 degree turn in midair before racing back to her.

It sped at an amazingly fast pace, before dipping sharply downward and plunging itself in the man's groin. The man literally screamed in agony as the pain wracked his body and he clutched what remained desperately. The knife withdrew itself and stabbed him again, this time in his stomach. The blade tore a ragged hole in the interior lining of his stomach, creating a hole and allowing the acid to spill through and burn his vital organs slowly, torturously.

There were no words to describe what Chuck was feeling at that moment. Only three words raced through his head.

"_Kill me now!"_

But Raven intended to do no such thing. At least, not yet.

The tower's alarm system had long since been activated due to voice distress recognition picking up unusually high decibels emanating from Raven's room, and sirens could be heard accompanying the incessant flashing of crimson red bells.

Once again the knife came out of his stomach and impaled his lung. Chuck collapsed to his hands and knees and coughed violently, spitting up blood as he did so.

Again and again, the knife struck, intended to wound, but not to kill, until all that remained was a bloody mess of heaving flesh and bones, his skin shredded, his heart failing and his brain slipping into a coma.

Raven stood up out of bed and looked down upon the body, her eyes glowing red.

"Please…" It coughed, begged. "Kill…me…" More blood spilled from its pleading mouth.

"Pathetic." Raven commented coldly, before rearing her leg back and swinging it forward, knocking him out cold and placing him out of his misery.

_Three down, twenty-two to go._


	3. The Titans' Funhouse of Horror

**The Titans' Funhouse of Horror**

"Chuck do you copy?"

No answer.

"What the fuck is going on Crow? First Delta, now-." Mike was cut off by a piercing scream that spread like wildfire through the tower, immediately followed by the tower's alarm system activating, waking all the occupants in an instant.

"Shit Shit Shit SHIT!" Crow cursed.

"All units, subjects are awake, repeat subjects are awake!" There really was no point in stating the blatantly obvious.

An explosion rocked the tower, and the alarm abruptly cut off.

There was silence once more, and Crow could hear a slight scuffling of padded feet just at the outskirts of his vision.

"_Oh Jesus! They have a Gorilla! A fucking Gor-."_

"_What the fuck is that? Fire! Kill it!"_

The mercenaries opened fire on the other side, their silenced MP-5's making a chilling slit slit slit slit slit as they expelled each round.

"_He's coming from the shadows! It's-."_

Every voice he heard was abruptly cut off.

"Find cover and regain control! We are trained soldiers! We are not going to be taken down by a group of infants!" Crow yelled into the microphone and quickly ran back down the corridor, Mike following close behind.

"What the fuck is happening? This sounds like a fucking house of Horrors!" Mike stuttered.

* * *

The teenage leader of the group, a boy named Robin, was astounded as to how far their enemy managed to infiltrate the tower. His traffic-light coloured uniform hugged his skin and a yellow cape fluttered behind him.

He wore a black and white mask that covered his eyes. He extended a long silver staff from a weapons belt that wrapped around his waist, and held it firmly in front of him. He hadn't been able to find the others yet, but he prayed to God that they were still alive and fighting.

He exited the room in a flurry of rage.

He proceeded down the corridor that his door opened to and looked for any sign of the now silent enemy. There had been sounds of gunshots ringing through his room and others, but they had now ceased, along with the cries of terror.

He knew that those still alive had now managed to group together and will attempt another incursion towards the sleeping quarters of the tower.

He wasn't going to let that happen.

A peculiar sound reached Robin's ears, a hollow whistling sound, like the sound of something small being lobbed…

5…

4…

He spun quickly and held his staff baseball style. Bringing the staff around, he struck the fragmentation grenade and sent it back towards its origin.

3…

2…

There were muffled cries and screams as those who had thrown it now attempted to flee its blast radius.

1…

Boom.

The explosion rocked the tower and sent Robin flying off his feet and onto his rear before he turned on his stomach and covered his head. There was no fireball as seen in countless Hollywood movies.

There were only small metallic shards, traveling at breakneck speed directly perpendicular to the blast of the grenade. They flew above and past him, avoiding him entirely as the angle at which he lay shielded him.

The other mercenaries, however, were not so lucky.

The shards of metal found skin and flesh, embedding themselves efficiently in two soldiers' bodies. They screamed in pain as the metal seared their muscles and entered their retreating back and skull.

These shards are not designed to kill, only to maim and injure. Of course, if one enters your skull…

The two bodies dropped, their backs now a mess of ragged holes and messy openings here and there. Robin approached the two and concluded that they were left behind to take care of him.

He coldly stepped over their bodies after raiding their equipment and finding a combat knife in each. As he was not an expert marksman, the knives would have to do…

* * *

Cyborg had been recharging during the attack, standing in hibernation with his eyes closed. He was standing still, like a giant monolith, glowing a very faint blue to signal that he was still operational.

The alarms had sounded, and the sonic receptors in his metallic skull picked up the sound and registered it as a potential danger before his human mind could even wake up. His eyes opened and he stepped off his recharge platform, arm cannon raised.

He exited the door and found himself surrounded by four heavily-clad soldiers. For a second, they didn't notice him, as they had their backs towards him, until he proceeded to grab one by the skull and throw him through a wall at a terrifying speed. The figure flew through the door and landed in a heap, his spine broken.

The other three turned and saw him. A towering mass of muscle and machinery, it displayed a face clenched in anger and rage, its red eye glowing brightly.

"What the fuck is that? Fire! Kill it!"

They opened fire; bullets ricocheted off his titanium reinforced body and struck the plastered walls. They still continued with their barrage until their guns clicked uselessly.

They were dry.

Cyborg grinned menacingly and cracked his knuckles.

He reared his arm back and punched the first in the chest, breaking all his ribs and puncturing his lungs. The force of the punch rammed the soldier into the wall, Cyborg's fist still accompanying it.

Cyborg withdrew his fist and converted it into his sonic cannon. He leveled it at another soldier and released an awesome beam of blue energy, slamming the soldier in his face and slapping him to the ground in an instant.

The third soldier withdrew his Desert Eagle and attempted to put some .50mm sized holes in Cyborg's body.

That did him no good.

Cyborg whirled around and gripped the soldier by the throat, effortlessly lifting him up off the ground. The soldier struck the metal fingers that choked him desperately, but it was to no avail.

Cyborg's grip tightened, and he broke the soldier's neck.

He dropped the soldier's body and strolled recklessly down the corridor.

* * *

"Fuck Fuck! Units two and three have sustained heavy casualties, and there is no response from unit five! We have lost contact with Unit one, but units four, six and seven are still healthy."

"How many does that make us all together?"

"Fourteen."

"You mean to tell me we lost eleven fucking men to these kids?"

Mike gulped. "Yes sir."

Crow clenched his fist and rammed it into Mike's face, dropping him to the ground.

"Bart! You're second in command."

"B-But Sir I-."

"Do not question me."

The small figure, apparently named Bart, nodded meekly and approached Crow's side.

"Get the remaining units and men to converge on my location, the living room. From here we will hunker down until we figure out a next plan of attack. Got it? Good."

Bart got it.

"All units come in, this is marine four, ordering everyone to retreat to the living room ASAP, I repeat, get your asses here right now!"

Bart repeated the order a few times, ensuring that everyone carrying a receiver would be able to hear it.

_"Affirmative."_

_"Rodger that Marine, we'll be right up."_

_"About ing time."_

Within a span of precisely seven minutes, eleven soldiers piled in to the living room, using up-turned tables and sofas as cover whilst they knelt behind them. They rested their MP-5's on the top of each makeshift barricade and peered cautiously over.

A defensive perimeter was formed around the living area, and true to Crow's words, they hunkered down.

Crow examined what remained of his unit. Only his best soldiers remained, but he was confident that they would be able to eliminate the Titans, thanks to his contingency plan.

"Blaze and Walker, you two proceed down towards the base of the structure and place your C4 Charges as a contingency measure. Make sure you are not seen or detected, understood?"

The two men nodded in affirmation before exiting the defensive shell and entering enemy territory.

They disappeared into the shadows like a whisper in the wind.

"Triple J-." Crow began, indicating to three soldiers named Jones, Jamison and Jackson. "-You three exit this room through the kitchen and proceed down the corridor until you reach a flight of stairs." Crow stated, reciting from memory the floor plan of this tower.

"I want you three to secure that stairwell."

"No problem Chief." A low, booming voice echoed in the poorly illuminated room, its source being a literal tower of a man with his MP-5 in one hand and the Desert Eagle in the other. He was built 'Like a brick shithouse' according to close friends and peers.

He was followed by two men of equal height and build, and these three charming characters were the muscle of his team. They lumbered towards their objective, their massive forms barely able to fit through the arched doorway.

"Triple M!" Crow barked, addressing Marks, Martin and Merrick. "You three take care of the stairwell on the western wing. Now!"

They didn't reply in affirmation, instead simply unsheathing their combat knives and holding them backhanded before slithering out the western door.

"Greaves, I want you to disable power in this ed up house. Shut down those lights!"

"Yes sir." One last man scooted off.

Crow conducted a quick tally. This left five men, including him, to locate and eliminate five Teen Titans.

It was time to put 'Plan B' into effect.

Crow's way of thinking was thus: If infiltrating and eliminating the Tower's occupants by stealth did not work, he would gather his men and order them to locate and secure strategic checkpoints throughout the Tower. The two stairwells were his first priority, as they were the only flight of stairs that traveled from the bottom floor all the way to the rooftop. His second order of business was to eliminate power. Not just to plunge the tower into darkness and thus provide him with an advantage due to the night vision goggles all his men were supplied with, but to also disable the elevators that were currently operational, forcing the titans to use the stairs that Crow had just captured in order to navigate the tower. His contingency plan was brilliant but brutal. If the Titans manage to eliminate his unit, then one press of a switch will cause five C4 Satchel charges planted on the structural supports of the tower to explode, bringing the tower down in a mess of twisted steel and fire.

He had covered all ground, or so he thought.


	4. The Eastern Wall

**The Eastern Wall...**

Starfire panted heavily, her fists glowing an alien green. Her eyes glowed green as well, emulating the energy that ran beneath her skin.

Starfire was an alien. Born on a distant planet called Tamaran, she was gifted with the power of flight, and the ability to hurl emerald 'star-bolts' at her enemy. Coupled with her supernatural alien strength, and Starfire was a formidable force.

Her way of thinking however, lets her down in numerous ways.

Firstly, she refuses to kill. Sure, all the Titans have such morals, but they are willing to break them if their lives are in critical danger. Starfire however, would rather see herself get killed before she murdered anyone.

Secondly, she is extremely naïve.

That is why, when she first encountered these intruders, she truly believed that they were potential friends.

She was dead wrong.

Upon hearing the alarm and exiting her room, she was shocked to come face to face with a masked man standing right outside her doorway, holding what appeared to be a weapon of some kind. Naturally, being Starfire, she smiled warmly to greet this newcomer.

"Hello! Perhaps we should gather the team so we may do the 'getting-to-know-you' event that is so widely celebrated upon-." She was violently cut off by a knee to the chest.

The wind was forced out of her as the knee ploughed straight into her abdomen and lower chest. She stumbled unwillingly, taking a few shaky steps back as she inhaled and exhaled deeply. She was bent over slightly, clutching her stomach in pain.

The man struck again, delivering a vicious uppercut with the butt of his rifle. Starfire's head snapped up and backwards and she stepped back further, with the figure unrelenting in his attacks. He reared his fist back and delivered a fatal blow for an ordinary human being, crashing straight into the bridge of her nose and sending her flying back onto her bed.

Starfire of course, was no ordinary human being.

The figure saw that she was still breathing, so with a smirk and a loving gaze at her voluptuous body, he swung his MP-5 around and aimed it at her head, still smiling as he did so.

Then the strangest thing occurred.

His gun was ripped out of his hands, striking his head repetitively. Once, twice, it smashed into his skull, the butt of the rifle now covered in his blood.

But the attack never relented. As long as the man was still standing, he would get hit. After the seventh swipe, the man dropped roughly onto his knees, slipping slowly out of consciousness. One final swipe aimed directly at his forehead did the trick, forcing him to fall backwards and knock himself out on the floor of the bedroom.

"That's enough Raven." A stern voice ordered, and the gun dropped to the ground with a loud clatter.

"Starfire, are you ok?"

Starfire raised herself out of bed and rubbed her head. The loud throbbing was slowly ebbing away, until all that remained was a slight bump on her forehead. She nodded tentatively, but Robin was not convinced.

"Cyborg, check her for injuries."

The mechanical man lumbered in and performed a quick bio-physical scan of Starfire, but other then a few bruises, she was perfectly normal.

"No fracture or swelling, no internal bleeding, not even a broken nose. Starfire is a tough girl to crack Robin, you should know that." Cyborg said warmly and brushed Starfire's head.

Robin didn't bother replying.

"Where is Beast-Boy?" Starfire demanded.

Beast-Boy was, ironically, playing a counter-terrorism video game simulation when these soldiers arrived. For four hours, he boasted, he played non-stop.

Beast-Boy's DNA incorporates the ability to shape-shift into any known animal on Earth, and perhaps alien species as well. Due to this, his skin has permanently turned a shade of lime-green, but he doesn't mind.

Beast-Boy departed his room in a rush once the alarm rang. The door hissed open as he approached and glided shut after him.

He ran, only to run into the fist of a towering soldier, knocking him flat on his back as a masked face peering curiously down towards him.

"Who are you?" Beast-Boy demanded, but he received no response.

At least, no verbal response.

The soldier instead opted to swing his MP-5 around himself and point the barrel at Beast-Boy. Beast-Boy's eyes widened. He recognized a weapon when he saw one.

His quick thinking and brutal actions saved him, albeit barely.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to transform. Within a few moments, he felt muscle upon muscle appear on his limbs and torso. He felt great clumps of hair grow on every square centimeter of skin. He felt his upper-body grow exponentially in weight, forcing him to lean on his dinner plate-sized knuckles. He felt his teeth grow to obscene lengths, and his ever-present overlapping tooth grew as well, until it almost reached his nose.

He had become a gorilla, and he simply roared in hatred.

"Oh Jesus! They have a Gorilla! A ing-." Beast-Boy decided he would go first. Wrapping his sausage-like fingers around his ankle, Beast-Boy proceeded to lift him into the air and bring him whistling down at a great speed.

At that moment his team-mate squeezed the trigger of his sub-machine gun, the silenced projectiles popping out and striking Beast-Boy's back and side, enraging him even more as he slammed the other soldier into the ground like a fly-swat.

Beast-Boy roared again and lifted the soldier from the ground once more, this time hurling him like an Olympic Hammer-Thrower towards his partner. They both fell like skittles and slid across the floor before coming to a stop beside a wall, out cold.

Beast-Boy felt his knees go weak and he collapsed on his massive chest, panting heavily as the pain from the bullets wracked his body.

_"Must…Change…back…"_

He felt muscle diminish and shrink, his fur receded back into his skin, but he also felt something else. He felt seven foreign, metallic bodies pop out one after the other from his back, clattering to the ground as his skin healed over.

The pain from the bullet wounds was gone, simply because there _were _no bullet wounds to cause it! Beast-Boy's power withdraws its energy from his DNA, each animal that he transforms into nothing more then an unnatural DNA pattern in his system.

This allowed Beast-Boy to heal all physical wounds simply by transforming into another creature.

Beast-Boy stood up and despite what he had just been through, chuckled.

"That was too easy."

He ran down the corridor to find the others. Starfire's room was the closest to his, so he decided he should check on her first.

The Panther had not struck yet.

He simply clung to the shadows, an ocean of darkness surrounding him.

He was in what he believed to be the infirmary ward of the Tower. Medical equipment was neatly stored in glass cabinets that lined the top-most part of the walls. An Operating table was situated on a small island in the centre of the room, its cold metallic surface presenting a sense of uneasiness in The Panther's heart. Two recovery beds hugged the eastern wall, each separated by a dull blue dividing curtain. Heart monitors, drip-feeds, even a defibrillator or two were located on the left-hand side of each bed.

The Titans had state of the art hospital facilities, but he hoped that he would not need to use them.

He emerged from the shadows, his machete hanging loosely from his right hand.

At that precise moment, the bell rang out, awakening all the sleeping occupants. The Panther was slightly startled, but he regained his composure and left the infirmary.

He soon realized however, that the ringing bell drowned out all other noises, especially the essential sounds of bullets, so he decided to fix that problem.

Lucky for him, he had just reached the Titans control room.

It was a small room, rectangular with roughly three meters width and seven meters length, but once he entered he was presented with an amazing sight. Television screens filled the entire northern wall, and controls for what appeared to be the surveillance cameras that littered the Tower protruded out from underneath the monitors. To his left a gargantuan computer terminal enveloped the whole western wall, buttons and controls he had never seen before flashed and buzzed like a cheap prop in a B-Grade Sci-Fi movie.

After a few moments searching, The Panther found a small red button on the wall adjacent to the computer terminal that was labeled 'Alarm'. He flicked it, and the alarm bells cut off along with the flashing red sirens.

He made to leave, but the camera terminal intrigued him. He flicked a button that was labeled 'Living room'. A television screen near the center of the wall flickered to life, beginning with a grainy blue and slowly coming in to focus. He saw two men, one talking frantically into his radio, whilst another paced impatiently.

He flicked another button, and saw a soldier brutally attack the tall girl named Starfire. His eyes widened and he made to leave, but his eyes caught something else on the screen. He saw three figures approach from behind the mercenary, with the cloaked girl extending her arm and leading the pack.

She would be safe, for the moment.

Another button switched, another monitor flickering to life. He was now thoroughly absorbed in viewing what was currently unfolding in this home. He saw a green gorilla, big by even primate standards, casually throw an armoured soldier into another soldier, knocking them both off their feet and into a wall.

One more button, he surmised, and he would leave. He was presented with another nasty shock when he saw himself in the monitor, and every movement he made was portrayed in the TV. But that's not what he was so shocked about.

There was _someone else in the room!_

The Panther whirled around and came face-to-face yet another mercenary, his combat knife raised and poised to strike. He gripped the machete and swung hard at his neck, but the mercenary ducked and rolled backwards, exiting the room. The Panther followed, and made to strike again. The mercenary side-stepped the slash, bringing his own knife

forward as he did so and lunging for his throat. The Panther took hold of the mercenary's left hand with his own and brought him closer, kneeing him in the chest and knocking all life out of his lungs. The mercenary swooned, but recovered quickly and ducked another swipe from The Panther.

"Stop ing moving!" The mercenary roared in anger as he swiped at The Panther's chest, then head, then chest again, only to be avoided by tucking his stomach in and arching his back forward slightly, then arching back, then arching forward again. The mercenary was getting irritated, and it definitely showed.

His wipes were becoming erratic and uncoordinated, until one final swipe and The Panther saw his advantage. He gripped the lunging arm and pulled him closer once more, however this time he twirled the mercenary around until his back faced him and used the mercenary's _own arm _to lock him in a headlock. The mercenary struggled, but the blade he held backhandedly began to sink into his throat, so he dropped it with a clatter.

"Good choice." The Panther said before breaking his neck swiftly and painlessly.

He turned back to the room. He noticed something when he was exchanging slashes with the mercenary that he had failed to notice before when he first walked in. He entered the control room once more and gazed to his right.

The Eastern wall.

His blood ran cold at what he saw.


	5. Up the Stakes

**Up the Stakes**

"Two hostile units in target structure. Proceed with extreme caution, the elimination of the vigilante superhero group known as The Teen Titans is our first priority, all other threats secondary, understood?"

_"Roger that."_

_"Yes sir."_

Another MC-130 Combat Talon, another HALO jump.

There is however, one key difference between the previous jump and this one.

The previous jump was filled with ex-military mercenaries, twenty-five of them.

This one is filled with only five of the most well-trained, lethally-equipped military soldiers in the world.

Five Navy SEAL members. That's all it took to reduce an enemy's fortress of two-hundred strong to rubble. They were being sent to infiltrate and terminate kids, for Christ's sake!

How hard could it be?

The soldier who had given the previous order was a tall, African American man in his early thirties named Brendon Fischer. Kevlar covered every square inch of his body, leaving no piece of skin exposed. It was coloured black to blend with the shadow, and his face mask that assisted respiration also doubled as light amplification goggles.

Under his right armpit a black M4A1 Carbine hung loosely by a nylon shoulder strap and beside it a HK P9S Handgun holstered safely in a leather pocket. His teammates were similarly armed, albeit with a few slight modifications to each weapon they wielded, in an attempt to 'personalize' them.

"Ok frogmen! Let's go!" He barked sharply, before leaping into the biting cold air. Four other figures tumbled from the bowels of the plane, and within seconds all sight of them from the cockpit was lost.

They sped through the air at an unmatched velocity. There arms were compressed to their sides and their legs were pressed together in an effort to minimize drag.

It was working very well.

They fell in silence. No radio activity bounced between them. Only the wind that screamed in their ears was heard, but before long they obtained a visual of the tower, and released their chutes.

Their speed was halted abruptly as their chutes caught the air above them and yanked them to an unpleasant halt. They drifted down and landed softly on the roof of the building, un-strapping their chutes before they had even come to a complete stop.

One last soldier emerged from behind a protruding air vent, wielding a knife in his right hand that was caked in dried blood.

"Two targets eliminated. They were guarding the rear entrance, but were silenced."

Fischer nodded. He then held up a gloved hand and indicated for the rest of his team to follow.

They slunk into the open doorway, and disappeared.

The Black Panther was never shocked.

It was a new feeling to him, and a very unpleasant one. He had already felt it twice tonight, and he was starting to get annoyed at how little he really knew about the whole situation here.

On the Eastern Wall, another row of TV Screens filled his vision. These were of the exterior premises however, more precisely, the roof.

He had just witnessed the infiltration of the Tower by _another _group, and by the looks of it, an infinitely deadlier one.

The stakes had just been raised to a whole new level.

The SEAL members crept out from the concealing black and surveyed their surroundings, just like they were trained to do, even though they had pored over the floor plans of this Tower hundreds of times during practice.

No surprises. Everything must proceed according to plan.

Fischer raised a hand in a gesture for his team to halt.

They obeyed.

He crept forward a few metres alone, and peered around a corner, his gun raised to eye level as he examined his world through the aiming reticule.

No surprises.

He gestured for his team to follow. They obeyed.

He slunk around the corner, cautious to not create any unwanted sound. His team followed his lead, and before long they had reached the end of the corridor.

Seeing no immediate threat, he deemed that this area was safe to utilize their microphones.

"Team one, proceed down the corridor, but do not open fire if hostiles are spotted, only return, understood?"

Two SEAL members barely nodded, before raising their weapons and skulking down the corridor that lead to the Titan's Living room.

"Team two, proceed back to our infiltration method and head West. Once again, do not open fire, only return."

Another two departed the team, leaving only himself and the sixth.

"Divide and Conquer, huh chief?"

Fischer nodded. "Exactly. Now follow me."

Fischer and the sixth punched a button that was labeled with an arrow pointing downwards, and in a few moments a cheerful 'ping' was heard, notifying the two that their ride had just arrived.

Crow's earpiece crackled to life once more.

_"Satchel charges placed sir."_

"Good work boys, now do something about the power, will you? Is Greaves with you?"

_"Yes Sir he is, and no problem."_

True to their word, the lights flickered for a few moments, before shutting down for precisely three seconds, then slowly coming to life.

_"Shit! They must have auxiliary power. Searching for a backup generator… wait. Sir, did you send anyone else down with us?"_

Crow's face went cold.

"Negative. Why?"

_"Because the elevator just arrived." _Crow could hear the soldier he was speaking to give some orders to his partners, and they all ceased talking as they hid behind various machinery.

The tension was so great, Crow felt as if he was about to scream just to release some anger, but lucky for him he withheld himself.

_"False alarm." _The voice said with an audible tome of relief. _"There was no-one in-."_

Static enveloped Crow's hearing.

"Blaze? Walker? What happened? Do you read? Greaves? What the Fuck?"

There was no answer, and there never will be.

He knew he had just lost three men down there, but he still couldn't bring himself to admit it. The lights were still on. The three men had failed their mission.

Wait. The lights just cut off. The Tower was plunged into a restless darkness.

It seems that Lady Luck was on his side for once.

In order to fully comprehend what had happened downstairs in the basement, one must take into account various contributing factors.

First, the speed at which the Elevator doors opened.

Second, the silencers attached to the SEAL members' guns.

Third, the portable frequency-jamming device that every self-respecting Special-Ops team carried.

Last, the speed at which the elevator descended.

Now, with all these factors noted, one can piece together the puzzle.

As the elevator descended towards the basement, Seal six removed the Frequency Jammer from his backpack and fiddled with it for a few moments, whilst Fischer fired one round into the lock of the Elevator's access hatch, unlocking it and swinging it wide open. SEAL six locked onto the broadcasting radio-waves and prepared to push the final button.

The elevator landed lightly on the floor and the doors widened, inching ever-so-slowly towards their pockets. This allowed the two SEALs to make their 'escape'. They leapt through the hatch just as SEAL six pressed the button, and the group lost contact with their leader.

This momentary loss in concentration was all they needed, and as one they fell through the hatch and fired in unison at the three stunned mercenaries. The one who had been attempting to contact Crow was the first to die. His body convulsed violently as a bullet entered his skull, blowing half his head off and causing him to jerk backwards, just as another bullet embedded itself in his chest, then stomach, then chest again.

He was dead before he hit the ground.

The second had been hiding behind a large piece of outdated machinery. Junk the Titans still kept in their basement. One lucky shot smashed into his nose and his face collapsed inwards due to the force of the impact.

He took a few seconds to die.

The third had managed to bring his weapon up, only to have his body shredded into pieces by the combined force of Fischer and SEAL six firing upon him.

He was dead as well before he hit the ground.

The SEAL members are efficient, deadly, and ruthless. They spent a few restless moments searching for the Generator, disabling it once they found it. The Tower was now dark once more, and it won't be light again for a long time...


	6. The Feeling of Death

**The Feeling of Death.**

TOWER STATUS…

CHECKING…

_Primary and auxiliary power disabled._

_Minor structural damage in sleeping quarters…_

TOWER INHABITANTS…

_18 foreign bodies detected… scanning…_

_(5) Titans operational._

"Eighteen mercs. Dude, we have a massive battle ahead of us."

It had been thirteen minutes since the brutal attack on Starfire, and currently all the superheroes were crowded in her room. Cyborg was the one who had spoken as he scanned the Tower for any discrepancies.

He found plenty.

"The power is out, along with the generator. They must've disabled it."

Robin brooded. He was deep in thought, and his brows were furrowed in heavy concentration. He was attempting to formulate a plan, to beat the mercenaries at their own game.

"How long until daylight?"

"Four hours and thirty-seven minutes."

Robin sighed and walked to the door of Starfire's room, peering cautiously out once he arrived. He saw nothing.

"Each of us has fought at least one of the mercenaries. We can defeat them, but we have to do it quickly before they establish a strong foothold in the tower."

"Robin man, there's something else you should know."

Robin whirled to face the Metal Teenager.

"The alarm system. The only way to disable it is via the main control room. It's not working anymore, so that means someone must've accessed the main controls."

Robin seemed indifferent. So what?

"But that's not all. I ran a biorhythmic scan of the room, and it showed one figure entering, his heart-rate normal and blood pressure average, but a few moments later another figure entered, this one was extremely stressed and nervous, as indicated by the wireless heart monitor. A few moments after _that, _only one figure exits the room. So unless that guy had a heart attack…" He left the remaining statement up to each Titan's imaginations.

"There's someone else involved. We have to find out whom, he might be able to help us. Beast-Boy! Find a way to the control room and examine the tapes that monitor the room itself. Figure out what the Hell happened, then get back here ASAP. The rest of us will wait here. You're the only one who can do this, so don't fail it!"

Beast-Boy nodded, before saluting gallantly and winking at Raven as he morphed into a fly and buzzed away.

Raven just groaned and rolled her eyes.

After passing by two towering soldiers who were slowly making their way towards the sleeping quarters, Beast-Boy reached the control room and morphed back to his normal self.

He saw a dead mercenary lying in the corridor just outside the door with his head twisted at an unnatural angle.

He entered the room and was stunned by the amount of flickering lights and shiny screens populated this seemingly insignificant part of his house. He crept to a large black cabinet that held only five TV screens, the ones that were on constant 24 hour surveillance. They recorded everything they saw, so it was only a simple matter to access the archives of twenty minutes previous and examine what exactly happened.

He saw a small but well-built man dressed in a black sleeveless _gi_ and wielding a machete, of all things. He saw him enter and fiddle with the controls, his head swinging upwards every so often to watch what the cameras saw.

Beast-Boy sat, mesmerized by the flickering blue screen as the black, ninja-like figure whirled around and began fighting with the other mercenary that had entered. He disposed of him relatively quickly, and turned to face the exterior camera's corresponding TV screens.

Beast-Boy wasn't sure, but it seemed to him that this character was quite shocked at what he had witnessed.

After a few more moments, the figure exited the room, and that was the end of it.

Beast-Boy pressed the 'stop' button on the DVD player and briskly exited the room.

The group titled 'Triple J' reached their objective without a fuss. In fact, no sound was heard ever since they had secured the living room.

They found a door labeled 'Stairs', and the leader grunted an order for one of his partners to go down the stairs, and the other to go up.

They obeyed, and the leader began to secure the immediate area on his floor.

Twelve minutes later, the soldier who was sent upstairs returned casually. He saw no threat, and deemed the area safe. Another three minutes after that, the soldier who explored downstairs climbed back up, his area too was safe.

"Eastern stairwell secure, chief."

His earpiece blared to life.

_"Good. Make sure it stays that way."_

"No problem."

Five metres away, in the shadow that enveloped the whole tower, Delta team one crouched motionless, their guns trained on the chest and head of the three individuals. Their night vision goggles enabled them to see where others could not, and right now they were seeing three poorly trained ex-soldiers attempting to secure a vital choke point.

It was sheer dumb luck really, when Jamison decided to flick on his night vision goggles, "just for the Hell of it." He saw two men aiming their weapons at them, but instead of even raising his gun to aim back, he simply nudged his partner and jerked his head to the SEAL members nonchalantly.

"Hey. Do you think they know we're on their side?"

Jones raised an eyebrow and turned on his goggles also. Lucky, yet at the same time unlucky, Jones had a slightly higher IQ then Jamison, and he knew a threat when he saw one.

"Our position has been compromised, hostiles hesitant in opening fire. Awaiting instructions."

…

_"Open fire. I repeat, open fire."_

They squeezed the trigger on their guns, and a torrential volley of bullets emerged from the barrel and slammed into the three shocked mercenaries. Jones and Jamison raised their weapons and fired back; seemingly oblivious to the amount of damage their bodies had taken. The barrel of their weapons erupted as bullets snaked their way towards the SEAL members.

Their aim was pathetic, but three bullets managed to embed themselves in SEAL three's Kevlar vest. They kept firing back, but the bullets kept coming, until finally Jones collapsed on the ground, followed by Jamison as the bullets pushed him further back, causing him to loose his foothold and trip down the stairwell.

Jackson took a few more hits, but eventually even he succumbed to the deadly rain of metal projectiles and he slumped to the floor, his knees no longer strong enough to support his massive frame.

The SEAL members ceased firing and checked their rounds. They calculated that, at a 93 accuracy rate, each member required roughly seventeen rounds to be taken down, all in the chest.

They released their weapons and spoke into the microphone once again.

"Three more hostiles eliminated."

_Seventeen down, eight to go…_

Crow roared in hatred and flung his earpiece at the wall, shattering it into a thousand useless pieces. All his plans were going to Hell, but he toyed with the fact that he could easily take everyone else with him…

"Bart! Get the remaining men and tell them to move out. We can't stay here any longer, because those freaks will find us."

Bart nodded and rounded up the rest of the motley crew.

"Sir? What's going on here?"

Crow sighed. "We lost Triple J and Blaze, Walker and Greaves. Haven't heard from Triple M yet, so I have to assume the worst. We need to get out of here. Out of the whole Tower, so we can detonate the charges remotely from a safe distance."

The rest of the crew nodded in unison, not even sparing a thought that perhaps Triple M was still alive. They were all too eager to leave this house of horrors.

Triple M were in fact, still alive and well, and they had just secured the stairwell. They set up a defensive perimeter and flicked on their night vision goggles. No-one was going to sneak up on these three.

"Marks to Crow. Come in Crow. I repeat, come in Crow!"

Marks repeated with slightly more urgency in his voice.

_"Marks! This is Bart, Crow is…unable to reply. Evacuate the building now. I repeat, evacuate Titans' Tower now! Contingency plan is in effect, you have precisely thirty-one minutes until eradication, so evacuate!"_

Marks' eyes widened in horror. Everything they had planned, it was all over. They were defeated by a group of kids.

"Roger that, Triple M moving out."

Marks switched off his microphone and gestured for the others to follow. They gazed at him in slight bewilderment, as if to say _"We are disobeying a direct order by abandoning our post."_

Marks didn't care what they thought.

They shuffled off in silence, still wielding their combat knives.

"Found anything?"

"Negative sir. Nothing yet."

For the past five minutes since the deactivation of power in the Tower, The two SEAL members had been examining every square inch of the basement, looking for anything out of place.

"Sir I think I found something!"

Fischer waltzed casually to SEAL six's position, his gaze following six's finger as it pointed to three coffee coloured satchel charges.

"Commencing defuse now sir."

Fischer raised an arm to signal for six to stop.

"Negative soldier. I have another plan for these."

"But sir, these are not timed, they are remotely detonated. They could push the button any second-."

Fischer raised his arm again and spoke into his microphone.

"Team one, what is the progress of the mercenaries?"

There was a brief silence, followed by a distorted whisper on the other end.

"They are evacuating the tower. Repeat, the mercenaries are leaving the premises."

Fischer smiled coldly beneath his Kevlar mask. "Excellent."

Beast-Boy arrived at Starfire's room and began to relay the information he had stored in his mind in regards to what he saw.

"Did you bring the DVD with you?" Cyborg pressed.

Beast-Boy moaned. "Dammit! I knew I forgot something!"

Cyborg slapped him on the back of the head.

"So now we have someone else involved, someone whom we do not know whether he is a friend or foe."

Robin was more thinking aloud then voicing an opinion. He fell silent, formulating a plan beneath his masked eyes. After a few more moments' contemplation, Robin gazed up and met the eyes of each of his team-mates.

"We split up. Get ready, and we go in our separate directions."

"Robin dude, are you sure that's a good idea?"

At that moment Robin snapped. "OF COURSE NOT! But what other option do we have? If we stick together in these corridors we'll get in each other's way! Now hurry up and do as I say if you want to live through tonight!"

Cyoborg fell quiet and the rest of the Titans simply stared.

"You heard him." Beast-Boy began, shattering the uncomfortable silence. "Let's split up and take those mercenaries down. Divide and Conquer, right Robin?"

Despite himself, Robin managed a small smile. "Exactly."

_Detonation in... (27) minutes (34) seconds…_

The Panther was doing what he did second-best: Hiding. His best skill was of course killing, something which he intended to do very shortly.

He was eyeing a trio of deadly mercenaries as they made their way to the ex-filtration point. He was summing them up, analyzing the way they moved and walked, and he surmised that one of them, the leader, had had ninjitsu training.

He was going to be a tough fight, not to mention the other two that flanked him.

The Panther slid a hand into his black belt and withdrew three shurikens. They were small and slightly circular, with blades protruding from the base and mimicking a star shape, hence their preferred name; ninja-stars. If he was lucky, he would be able to kill the two and injure the other, if he wasn't then he was up for a very hard fight.

He slowed his breathing almost to the point of it being non-existent. He held the shurikens between his fingers, which were clenched to form a fist. They protruded from just below his knuckles, and he held them up to his face as he closed his eyes.

His heart rate slowed tremendously, and he was utilizing all his ninja training to full effect so as to prepare himself for the intense battle ahead.

_Blink, moisten your eyes._

_Slow your heart, slow your breathing, conserve your energy._

_Sense your target from beyond your eyes._

_Feel him…_

He could feel power welling up from beneath him, and he opened his eyes.

In one swift motion, he flicked his arm around his body and released the twirling blades.

They screamed in the air as they reached unmatched velocities, before slamming into the back of the skull of both soldiers.

The leader of the group was much too skillful.

He twirled around and struck the shuriken with his knife, flinging it off course and causing it to embed itself in the wall.

"Come out come out you little Cocksucker."

The Panther didn't reply. Anger gets you nowhere.

"I said come out!" Marks spat, obviously in rage.

The Panther emerged from the shadows, his blade in one arm, a combat knife that he had pilfered from a corpse in the other.

"Whatever you say."

The Panther lunged, determined to catch the mercenary off-balance.

That was not the case.

Marks deftly dodged the attack and took hold of The Panther's arm tightly, before bringing his fist around and striking him in the kidney.

It all happened so fast, The Panther barely had enough time bring his other arm from behind and block another attack from Marks. He lifted his leg and pushed the mercenary away from himself, regaining his balance and composure as he did so.

"Finally met your match, have you?"

The Panther didn't bother replying, instead opting to edge closer to his prey.

"I bet you didn't expect me to match your skills."

Still drawing closer.

There.

The Panther loosened his grip on his knife and flung it at Marks, who anticipated the movement and jumped out of the way, right into The Panther's fist. Marks stumbled back, only to receive a devastating kick in his chest, winding him and sending him back even further.

"You may have the Ninja fighting style, but you have failed the technique."

He reared his fist back, the one wielding his blade, and impaled Marks swiftly, the metal slicing easily through his skin and tendon before emerging _on the other side._

He withdrew his blade and proceeded to walk away, before he heard an ominous 'slit slit', signaling the fact that he had just been shot in the back, twice, by the same man he had just impaled. The pain traveled up his spine and down, causing him to lose all feeling in his legs and falling roughly on the floor.

_No! I can't die now, not yet!_

_Get up! _

With the pain came an eerily comforting numbing sensation, and all he felt was a slight sense of euphoria.

He would be home soon…

_No! This isn't your time!_

It was dark, yet a sense of light consumed him.

_Get up!_

Warmth. Light. Cold. Dark. It was all the same, blending to combine a feeling he had never before felt.

_GET UP!_

He felt… death.


	7. Freedom

**Freedom.**

Raven walked silently down an equally silent corridor, her padded feet emitting no sound as they struck the carpeted floor in a rhythmic fashion, one after the other.

It was a steady pace, one that she kept as she approached the living room of the tower.

She was met with a strange sight as soon as Raven entered the room. Furniture was overturned and placed at in a circular shape around the central area, as if to guard against unknown adversaries. Other then that however, everything seemed perfectly intact, which only added to the eccentricity of the layout.

Her robe billowed softly behind her as she walked, and fell still when she arrived at the kitchen area. Stainless steel cutlery and porcelain crockery littered the bench-tops and sink, and countless cupboards lined the walls above and around her.

Raven approached a small column of drawers, and she pulled open the second from last.

There, lying atop various cooking utensils and what appeared to be a century old can opener, were four long and ultimately deadly kitchen knives, their serrated edges glistening in what little moonlight managed to enter through the towering windows.

She encased them in obsidian energy and levitated them around her body as she simply grinned malevolently, her eyes slowly flooding crimson.

"Fuck! Did you see that?"

Crow whirled to face Bart, who looked as if he had just seen a ghost.

"See what?"

Bart didn't answer straight away, instead opting to strain his eyes further as he peered through his night vision goggles at a lime-green world.

Crow followed his gaze, but he was unable to spot anything out of place.

Bart still gazed, and he strained his ears as well.

Then he heard it, and it chilled him to the core.

"Hsssssssssss…"

A primal hiss, something that should not even exist. It sounded like something was breathing, but that thing should not be alive.

"Hsssssssssss…"

There it was again, closer this time, deadlier.

"Holy shit! Did you hear that?"

Crow was the one who didn't reply this time, signaling the fact that yes, he had indeed heard it.

"Hsssssssssss…"

Louder. Closer. Deadlier.

It could hear their heart pumping madly from within their chest, covered only in one layer of skin and some clothing.

Bart still gazed through his goggles, when he finally saw it. It was only for a split second, and then it was gone.

Bart raised his gun and fired it into the shadows, holding the trigger until the gun ran completely dry.

The hissing was no more.

Bart walked cautiously down the corridor, examining every inch of the hallway.

"Don't get too far, we have to move."

He continued to walk, and eventually turned a corner.

He saw nothing.

He turned back to his team-mates, but instead of Crow, all he saw was a prehistoric horror, covered in sickening green scales with an obscenely long tail and raptor talons that supported its lizard-like bulk.

It was a velociraptor, a perfect killing machine that should have been wiped out in the Cretacious era. Everything Bart saw simply defied logic.

Then again, the only thing Bart saw was the inside of its jaw, so it didn't really matter whether he thought it to be illogical.

_Twenty-one down, four to go…_

Cyborg was witnessing the aftermath of a vicious battle. Four soldiers, three wearing mercenary gear and the fourth a strange karate outfit, lay dead on the floor, their blood pooling out beneath their wounds.

"Two of them dead by metal impalement at the base of the skull." Cyborg listed emotionlessly.

"One dead via impalement through the chest cavity, below the heart."

"One dead via two bullet wounds in the back…wait."

Cyborg knelt down beside the karate-outfit-wearing individual and examined him more thoroughly.

"Correction: One critically wounded via two bullet wounds in the back."

Cyborg stated, scooping up the limp form of The Panther effortlessly and taking him to the infirmary.

"Master. The Panther has failed his mission."

Cold. Dark. Metal.

"He is dead then?"

A figure nodded. "Yes master."

Cyborg lay The Panther on the cold operating table on his stomach and proceeded to remove the two projectiles that were lodged in his back.

"Strange." Cyborg muttered to himself as he scanned The Panther once again.

Picking up a scalpel, Cyborg made an incision just behind the ear of The Panther and removed a small, gray chip that was lodged between his ear lobe and skull.

"Very strange." He finished, holding the chip up in the light of his torch.

He took the chip and placed it upon a bench-top, where he could examine it more thoroughly.

"Extremely strange."

Pieces of a much larger puzzle then Cyborg originally suspected were starting to fall into place.

The first thing that came across his mind was pain. It was agonizing. It originated from the centre of his back and made its way up and down his spine like an electric current, torturing his body and mind.

The Panther gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

_I should be dead. Why am I not dead?_

A small moan of pain escaped his lips as he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the operating table he lay upon. He was in the infirmary, lying atop the same metal bed he wished he never would have to see again. He shuddered slightly and hopped off, only for his knees to buckle under the weight of his body, causing him to fall on his chest.

_I can't feel my legs…_

He rolled onto his back and, ignoring the overwhelming pain that wracked his body, forced himself to sit upright.

A tingling sensation crept up the back of his ear and skull, and he stroked the tender spot lightly with his fingers. It was the exact same spot where…

…_I don't believe it…_

It was the same spot where his tracking and body-monitoring chip was implanted so many years ago. The chip that had stripped him of his life, his freedom, and forced him to work like a slave and fight like a dog.

Now it was gone, he could feel it, sense it.

_I have been granted my humanity…_

But at what cost? He could no longer feel his legs, he should be dead, yet he was still breathing, still thinking, still reasoning.

He rubbed his legs vigorously, trying desperately to regain movement, and get blood flowing again. It could have been perceived as a futile attempt, but The Panther silently thanked the Gods as he slowly felt his legs warming up, and the all-too-familiar feeling of pins and needles creep up his legs.

After a few minutes of restless rubbing, The Panther finally regained full control of his feet and knees, and shakily stood erect, using the operating table as support.

He took a few uneasy steps towards the exit, holding onto anything sturdy enough to support him. It was as if he was learning to walk all over again, but this time at an accelerated rate. He extended his hand and gripped the doorknob tightly, swinging the wooden door open roughly. He cringed at the amount of noise he made, but he realized now that he was beyond caring.

He was nearly free, nearly home.

He proceeded down the corridor, each step he took more steady and confident then the last, until before long he was speeding down the hall in full stride, not a care in the world as to how much noise he made.

He was almost there, almost free, he could taste it.

Then he slowed down. He stopped, as a confusing set of emotions welled up beneath him. He felt something tugging at his gut, telling him to stop, and of all things, turn back.

_Why?_

He failed to comprehend this new feeling. It was one of guilt.

The Teen Titans may be capable, but the new threat of the SEAL's was even more pressing then the mercenaries. They knew what they were doing, and the Titans had no idea.

_Why should I help them?_

They need your help. Go back, help them defeat their enemy, then you can leave.

_But freedom…_

Go. Back.

It was his first choice. His first choice as a free man, and he savored every second of it.

SEAL six saw his objective.

The mercenaries –what remained of them- had stopped momentarily to do a head count. Once they realized that Bart was missing, they spared no-one in attempting to find him.

You lag behind, you are left behind.

SEAL six crept up silently behind the team of rag-tag soldiers, with the two satchel charges in hand.

_I can't believe he talked me into this…_

"Dammit Fischer…" SEAL six muttered beneath his breath as he closed the distance between him and them.

It would only take one mercenary to turn around…

No. Don't think like that. He crept closer…

All the SEAL members were reunited, sans SEAL six, who was away completing a mission of utmost importance.

They were clustered in the living area, where the mercenaries had set up earlier this night.

Fischer stood in the centre of the room, clutching his weapon loosely in his hands as he addressed the rest of his team.

"It seems the Teen Titans have split up in order to eliminate us. Therefore we need to push them back together, preferably to their sleeping area, as there is no retreat from there. We can then pin them and kill them without much hassle. Understood?"

There was a ripple of head shaking throughout the squadron as everyone nodded.

"Excellent. We stick together until I give the signal to split. Move out."

The SEAL team slowly filtered out from the living room and crept into the pitch black of the Tower's corridors, guns in hand.

They walked in silence, the only barely audible sound was the slight scuffle of their feet, but even that was lost beneath their heavy breathing.

Fischer abruptly raised an arm and the team stopped immediately. He pointed to a minor discrepancy in the shadows and flicked his night vision goggles on. It was a dark lump that rapidly approached the team, but its arms were raised in a gesture of peace.

Fischer lowered his weapon and noticed that it was actually SEAL six returning from his mission, and he exhaled a slight puff of air in relief.

"Mission accomplished."

Fischer nodded and motioned for SEAL six to join the rest of the crew.

Six accepted without hesitation.

They walked for a few more moments, until Fischer ordered them to stop once again. He held up two fingers and pointed to the corridor that veered to the left, and held up three fingers and did the same towards the right. Two members broke from the group and disappeared to the left, and another two to the right. That left SEAL six and Fischer once more by themselves as they continued directly forward.

Raven had been wandering, patrolling, even, the corridors for a while now, and she had lost count of the time. She had simply levitated the three knives she had pilfered from the kitchen draw and they circled her menacingly, as if they were guard dogs protecting their precious master.

"Spotted the girl named Raven. Awaiting orders to fire at will."

There was static, before Fischer spoke the two deadly words.

"Permission granted."

SEAL two didn't need to be told twice. He raised his gun and squeezed the trigger, sending forth a torrential volley of bullets.

Raven's eyes widened, and she barely had enough time to erect an energy shield to protect her before the bullets popped harmlessly on the obsidian glass wall. Her eyes cracked and sparked with energy and she sent forth all three of the knives towards her assailant.

They sped swiftly, cutting through the air like… well, like knives. They danced in midair, and this time it was SEAL two's turn to be surprised as he released his gun and fell to the ground, the knives narrowly missing his helmeted skull. Raven lowered her shield, as the bullets had now ceased momentarily and focused all her energy on her flying weapons, causing them to halt their current trajectory and spin madly before coming straight back for him. SEAL two withdrew his own knife and parried with the kitchen knives, deflecting them as they stabbed and swiped.

It was a strange sight, Raven with her arm held out straight and her eyes glowing black and white, whilst an elite SEAL member parried with three kitchen knives that seemed to have a mind of their own.

He was doing an admirable job however, swerving and dodging the lunges before finally spinning and delivering a vicious swipe upwards that managed to shatter one of the knives.

He was also doing a great job in distracting Raven as his teammate crept silently to the right of her and leveled his weapon at her exposed side.

He pressed the trigger of his own gun, but thanks to Raven's lightning quick reflexes, she used her right hand to erect another shield on her side. But now she was focusing her energy on two fronts, and it drained her rapidly. The knives were losing their ferocity, and both SEAL members could see that. Their strikes were less coordinated and passionate, and SEAL two took this lull in energy to shatter the final two kitchen knives with his combat knife.

He raised his M4 Carbine and squeezed the trigger yet again, and Raven was forced to create another shield.

With both her arms out and blocking bullets from both weapons, she was forced to take a few steps back, causing her shields to falter momentarily as she did so. The pressure of each round was overwhelming, and each blow yielded another step backwards.

Cyborg proceeded back towards the infirmary, a clean scalpel in hand.

"What the…" He dropped the scalpel and raised his sonic cannon as he observed his surroundings.

"Permission granted."

The first thing Cyborg felt was a slight tingling sensation, replaced by a more rapid tickling feeling. What he was feeling were bullets from each of the SEAL members' guns. The pressure slowly built, but Cyborg was unfazed, instead he fired his cannon in retaliation as he took a step backwards.

The bullets ceased for a moment, and Cyborg noticed a small cylindrical canister slowly flying towards his general direction.

Cyborg's human eye widened as his robotic mind analyzed and recognized the canister as a fragmentation grenade.

His first instinct was run.

He listened to that impulse, and retreated quickly as the bomb detonated and sent pieces of shrapnel in all directions. Most of the pieces bounced harmlessly off his titanium reinforced bulk, but a few managed to squirm their way into his exposed skin.

Cyborg roared in pain but he slowed his pace and retreated whilst firing his sonic cannon back behind him.

Another grenade caused him to curse profusely and flee the scene in rage.

"Sir? It seems that the leader and the alien are sticking together, but the Beast-Boy is still unaccounted for."

Fischer gritted his teeth. This was a tough call.

"Ok. You go and find the animal kid. I'll take care of these two."

SEAL six nodded and shuffled off.

Fischer raised his M4, brought it up to his face and peered down the aiming reticule. He proceeded cautiously down the corridor, its distinct lack of windows providing no moonlight to betray his cover.

Then he saw them.

"Starfire, we really should split up. We'll be more useful to the others that way, and-."

Robin flicked his head up and turned slightly to the left and right.

He then slowly turned and stared directly at Fischer's hiding place, and Fischer's heart stopped.

"Starfire." He began, not taking his eyes off Fischer's concealed mass. "There is a soldier hiding in those shadows were I'm staring right now. He has night vision goggles on, so on the count of three, I want you to charge up the brightest Starbolt you can possibly do, understood?"

Starfire gulped before nodding tentatively.

"One…"

Robin shuffled and changed his position slightly.

"Two…"

He bent his knees and narrowed his eyes, and all Fischer could do was watch as this strange child kept altering his stance.

"_If I didn't know better, I'd say he was getting ready for a fight, but he can't see me…"_

"Three!"

And all of Fischer's world was utter agony.

Starfire had ignited a massive Starbolt, pumping as much energy as she could into it and holding her hand high as she did so.

Fischer's retinas burned painfully and he tore his goggles off in a tortured yell. He rubbed his eyes madly, trying to refocus and see clearly, but all he could see where strange, multi-coloured spots.

He fired his gun insanely, raining bullets upon everything he aimed at as he spun. This prevented Robin from approaching and finishing off the soldier, so instead he and Starfire retreated to a safe distance.

SEAL six saw the green boy walking casually past a decapitated mercenary, grinning slightly.

He raised his gun and aimed at Beast Boy, tracking his movements before finally releasing the safety and firing at him.

Beast-Boy ducked and spun, trying to get a good view of his assailant. All he saw was darkness and a slight flash after each bullet fired.

Beast-Boy called upon his gorilla form again and lumbered towards SEAL six, totally disregarding the fact that he had been shot seven times in the chest. He swung, but six was too quick, and he rolled out of the way before withdrawing his knife and stabbing Beast-Boy's massive green fist.

Beast-Boy roared in anger and lumbered back before swinging again, but six dodged once more and this time clutched his hair arm as Beast-Boy withdrew it upwards. Using this motion SEAL six spun in midair _over_ Beast-Boy's head and embedded his dagger in Beast-Boy's back, narrowly missing his spine.

Beast-Boy roared again, but this time it was a more pained roar, one that echoed agony as well as hate.

He lumbered away, before turning into a dragonfly and buzzing off, his wounds nonexistent.

_Detonation in… (14) minutes and (13) seconds…_


	8. A Final Parting gift

**A Final Parting gift.**

The night was wearing on. One wall and a world away, nocturnal creatures were slowly winding down, ready for another long day after a small feast. The wind still blew relentlessly, howls pierced the night. Outside, it seemed strangely serene. It was calm, it was quiet and peaceful, with only Mother Nature going about her business as per usual.

Inside the obscenely large tower shaped like a 'T', however, it was Hell.

Plaster and timber erupted in showers of dust and shrapnel, bullets struck the walls and ceiling surrounding the retreating teenagers, covering them in a white cloud.

Slit slit slit slit slit! Each round expelled created an unnatural noise, and it seemed that no matter how they tried, the skill and power of the Teen Titans was finally outmatched by simple yet deadly methods.

The SEAL's plan was brilliant, and it was being executed flawlessly. Inch by inch, the Teen Titans were giving up ground, falling back from whence they came, and thereby creating an easy target for them.

Raven had been valiantly deflecting bullets for a while now, and the previously unfaltering stream of projectiles had petered out into sporadic gunfire once in a while, as if to alert Raven to the fact that they were not going to give up.

For every step Raven took down the hallway from where she came, the two SEAL members took one step forward. They matched her pace, and made sure she didn't lose them.

Raven had a choice, of course. She could've simply transformed into her soul-self and dissipated into thin air, leaving no trace as to where she might have gone.

Of course, this yielded other, potentially life-threatening side-effects. If she dropped her shield in order focus her energy in disappearing, then the soldiers will have a clear shot at her exposed body, which was now glistening with perspiration.

She stewed silently as the thought of how weak she was kept crossing her mind. She couldn't run, she couldn't disappear, couldn't do anything except keep her shield erect for as long as possible.

And 'Possible' was running out fast.

Her energy stores were rapidly depleting, and she even had to swerve her head as a severely slowed-down bullet broke through her shield and landed on the floor beside her feet.

The soldiers were looming, and Raven was faced with a choice. She could take the risk of lowering her shield and dissipating, or keep her shields up until they eventually yielded or the soldiers ran out of bullets.

"Oh Shit…"

"Beast-Boy?"

"Who else metal arse? "

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted a change in scenery."

Cyborg simply raised an eyebrow and turned back to face the hallway where Beast-Boy had just appeared from.

"I think we better run."

"Ditto."

They both ran down the hall, Cyborg actually swiveling his upper torso in a perfect 180 degree rotation, so his upper body faced backwards whilst his legs kept running dead ahead, losing no speed. This allowed for Cyborg to aim his Sonic cannon and shoulder mounted rockets with ease, firing everything he could down the hallway he and Beast-Boy were escaping from.

They ran for what seemed like hours, but in reality only a few minutes had passed, before they came across a dead end.

"I knew this corridor looked familiar."

Cyobrg growled. "Shut up. We're fucked, we got nowhere else to go, except to hunker down and fight."

Beast-Boy grinned. "Then that's what we do, at least until Robin gets here."

"You up for another snack?"

"Hehe… always."

Beast-Boy swiveled and charged at the invisible enemy, leaping into the air before landing all four paws on the ground. He growled and snuffed, before opening his snout and roaring tremendously, shaking the SEAL members' teeth and rattling their insides.

Beast-Boy trotted towards the shadows, his ears pricked up to detect any unnatural and sudden noises.

He bared his teeth and two gargantuan saber-like fangs emerged from his lower jaw, and his transformation was complete. Just in time too, as he had just heard a solider finishing the reloading of his gun, heard the hammer being readjusted and slid into place, and he pounced.

He landed on the shocked SEAL member, with only his weapon held sideways protecting him from abruptly missing a head. Beast-Boy snapped and snarled, but he rolled off after being struck roughly with a boot to his ribs. He quickly sprung to his feet and eyed the two soldiers warily.

A blue beam of awesome sonic energy lit up the corridor before slapping the soldier on his side and throwing him off balance. His partner didn't even flinch, instead he withdrew his knife and stared back at Beast-Boy.

_These guys aren't mercenaries…_

Beast-Boy growled again and pounced into the air, his claws extended and teeth bared as he attempted to rip a new hole in the head of the soldier.

It didn't work.

The SEAL member dodged the attack by side-stepping to the left and swiped his hand at Beast-Boy's exposed side, tearing a messy wound. This just agitated Beast-Boy more and he pivoted his body around, slowing his velocity substantially and using the other side of the corridor as a springboard. He pushed himself off the wall and sped so quickly towards the soldier all he could see was an emerald green blur before a massive weight knocked him off his feet and onto the ground.

Beast-Boy bared his teeth and almost grinned, until another boot smacked him across the face and blurred his vision. Beast-Boy fell off, stunned at the fact that these guys were actually fighting and _winning _against a saber-toothed tiger.

He could hear growls, snuffles and groans echoing throughout the interior of the Tower. Then he heard something else. The roar was replaced by a cry of pain, then nothing.

His heart stopped.

He gazed at the machete in his right hand.

_This is not a suitable weapon for a ninja, but it is all I have._

He gripped it tightly and ran.

Raven moaned in a mixture of pain and exhaustion. She had managed to safely teleport, but where she landed she did not know. She simply homed in only the only signal she managed to pick up.

Cyborg's.

She opened her eyes and stood up, brushing herself lightly.

"_Raven?"_

"Who else?"

"Good thing you came. We need your help. Beast-Boy is getting-."

There was a cry of pain, a human cry, then nothing.

What colour resided in her cheeks was gone in a flash.

_Beast-Boy…_

That was another notch on her anger scale. One more and she would explode…

"Beast-Boy?"

There was no answer.

Cyborg's face contorted in anger and hatred, and he charged the shadowed area.

"No!"

Cyborg's progress was halted abruptly, and he turned to face the person who had given him that command.

It was Robin.

He was clutching Starfire by the waist, and her arm was draped around his shoulder as he struggled to support her.

"Wha-What happened?"

"She was shot in the leg and arm by one of those FUCKS!"

Cyborg's anger drained away, leaving behind only sorrow and compassion.

"The Teen Titans have been successfully routed. They are now cornered and awaiting elimination. The green one has been knocked unconscious, just as you requested."

Fischer sat silently, his eyes still throbbing from the blinding flash of Starfire's solar energy.

"Very well. Let's finish them off and go home. Inject the Animal kid with some of our medical morphine, enough to keep him conscious but drowsy, and tie him up. Once that is done, we await my final order to attack."

SEAL six nodded and opened his pack to reveal scores of medical equipment, and after a few minutes of restless rummaging he found what he was searching for.

"Done."

Fischer eyed the rag tag group of superheroes. They were whittled down to four now. He had to concede though, they were by far the toughest enemy they have ever faced. Especially the boy who can turn into any animal imaginable.

"On my mark…"

There was silence.

Not for long.

Because he never managed to utter the final command.

The darkness shrouded The Panther well. There were no restrictions, no inhibitions now that the chip was gone. Nothing could begin to describe the anger and hatred he felt for these SEAL members at that moment.

He approached Fischer from behind and gripped his helmeted head with his hands, bringing it down onto his protruding knee and causing his whole body to shudder violently due to the impact. Fischer let out a pained wail before The Panther bent his left knee and swung his right leg around, smacking Fischer's knees with such a force that they kicked out and around him, his whole body now _parallel _to the ground! Time seemed to slow down as The Panther reared his arm up as if punching the air and brought an elbow down, crunching straight through Fischer's helmet and sending him rocketing to the floor.

This all happened in the space of three seconds, not enough time for the SEAL members to comprehend what had happened and compensate accordingly. The Panther approached the next one and impaled him swiftly with his blade, before twirling around on his feet and causing the SEAL member's body to _slide off _the blade and into the wall!

At this moment the SEALs finally realized that something was definitely wrong, but by then there were only four of them left able to fight. The Panther moved to the next soldier without a moment's hesitation and clutched his mask with his right hand, ripping it off violently. The SEAL's face was now visible, and The Panther could see the eyes of a man who was about to die, but he saw no fear, only defiance. He wheeled an arm back and delivered a vicious uppercut to the man's face, before withdrawing his arm and elbowing him in the gut. He was not finished yet. The Panther actually used the soldier's vertical body as leverage as he _ran up_ his torso, turning his body slightly to the left before twirling it to the right and connecting his left foot with the side of the man's exposed skull and causing him to fall abruptly to the ground, out cold.

The two remaining soldiers opened fire on the Hell spawn, trying to fill him with lead, but he was simply too fast. SEAL two was next to fall to The Panther's blade. The Panther turned and swung upwards, bringing his blade straight through the SEAL soldier and creating a violent vertical slash that originated from his groin and ended at his collarbone. The Panther spun and swung horizontally, slicing across his chest and lifted a leg and kicked the pained solider away from himself. His final move was another swing, except this time he released his machete and the blade sank deep in the soldier's skull, and his body fell atop the final SEAL member.

The Panther ran again, this time to finish off the final soldier.

It was SEAL six.

SEAL six desperately pushed the dead body away from him, tried to bring his weapon up before Satan himself reached him.

The Panther was almost there now, and he stretched out his hand in order to grasp the handle of his embedded machete.

"No!"

The body was off, and the gun was raised.

The Panther was too late.

SEAL six squeezed the trigger, and he knew now that there was no way The Panther could hope to avoid those bullets.

Pain.

He felt it again.

His hand still outstretched, The Panther fell to the floor, his heart pounding madly.

What was this feeling again?

Oh…

He was experiencing the same sensation that he had felt only twenty minutes or so ago.

It was death, he was sure of it, but it felt… different.

He felt whole, complete, satisfied.

There was no way he could survive five bullet wounds directly to the heart, but he didn't care.

He was dying a free man.

It was his decision, to be here, to be protecting these kids, and he knew he had accomplished his mission, not out of necessity, but out of compassion for his fellow man.

He _chose _to be compassionate.

He _chose _to die like this.

He _chose._

_And now he's free._

SEAL six watched in horror as the terror of the night slipped away, his life essence draining.

"Oh my God…"

SEAL six took this time to survey what had happened. He was sent to kill those kids. Kids who uphold the law, who protect the innocent. Since when did they become enemies of the state?

So many people dead. Why was he feeling this? He never felt… sorrow. Or regret.

"Fuck…"

He looked back at the Teen Titans.

"What the fuck where they doing? Didn't they notice this fucking battle?"

He gazed at his gun. So many people dead from it.

No more.

"Fuck fuck fuck."

He dropped his gun and raised his hands, before stepping out into the clearing.

Cyborg raised his torch and shone it on SEAL six's face.

"Where's the rest?"

He had a lot of explaining to do.

"Sir, the SEALs and mercenaries have both failed."

"Facinating…

"The Panther has failed, but so have the mercenaries, _and _the SEAL members."

The light that shone from one lone lamp illuminated the figure that talked.

All that was visible was his face. It was covered in a mask of bronze and black.

"Very well. The Panther proved himself incapable of defeating the mercenaries and the SEAL members, therefore he would have been inadequate in completing my mission. Next subject."

"Yes sir. Our next subject is named Jack Wernson, also known as 'Smiling Jack'…"

_Detonation in (00) minutes and (14) seconds…_

"Prepare the detonator!" Crow ordered.

"Yes sir."

"On my count!"

Crow was casually residing beside a thick tree trunk, far away from the horrors he had endured in the Tower, which was now a small 'T' on the horizon.

"!0!"

A mercenary slumped to the ground, exhausted.

"9!"

He longed for a drink of water.

"8!"

He reached for his bag. It seemed heavier then usual.

"7!"

At that moment, the clouds parted, and the sun started to slowly creep up behind the Tower.

"6!"

Beautiful sunrise. The magnificent splashes of red and gold and a smattering of orange enveloped what remained of the night's sky.

"5!"

_We're going to create another sunrise…_

"4!"

The sun's rays reflected brilliantly off the pearl-blue bay water.

"3!"

The mercenary clutched his bag and unzipped it.

"2!"

He saw a strange, beige coloured package.

"1!"

_Oh God why…?_

"Now!"

A green light flicked red, and the immediate area surrounding Crow and the rest of his group exploded in flames and blistering heat.

A final parting gift from SEAL six.

Crow and his mercenaries were no more.


End file.
